


Devils Wear Denim

by butcherbaker17maker



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst, M/M, Prophecy, Slow Burn, Tags will be updated as I continue to have wonderful ideas about how to hurt you, end of the world AU, mandatory character death warning because it's Arthur, the chosen one, vocal unit vs performance unit vs hip hop unit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2019-11-08 04:02:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17974091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butcherbaker17maker/pseuds/butcherbaker17maker
Summary: Jihoon enters Pleiades University to get a degree in music. Fate, however, has other ideas for him, and he must embark on a journey to learn about his past, make friends, and save the souls of a race he never knew existed.





	1. Prologue: A Sneak Peak

“Well,” he mumbled, “this is new.”

“What?”

“I’ve been accepted to Pleiades U.”

His mother rejoiced, his father clapped him on the back, and there was no chance to tell them – he never applied to Pleiades University. How they accepted him – how they had managed to post him a student card with his photograph on it – was a mystery.

But Pleiades U was the kind of university you dreamed of going to: or at least, Jihoon dreamed of it. It was secluded, in the middle of a dense woodland, with no busybodies nosing around. The Humanities department was enormous and outfitted with the latest in technology, the dormitories were single-person, and according to his letter of acceptance, the exorbitant tuition fee was waivered in sight of his grades.

Jihoon called the front desk of Pleiades U – he had been put through to the Dean’s office, the Head of the Humanities department, the Head of the Music Department, and several other Heads Of Something Or Other, and they all had only the same answer for him – his application had been received, and they had accepted it. The exact same application he’d sent to umpteen other universities – except this one.

Only because the tuition fees were so high.

He suspected some of his closest friends to be the culprits behind it – but none of them were squawking – so he had no choice, and before the summer was well and truly over, he was on his way.

 

The train bulleted across the rails, comfortably clacking at regular intervals. He could almost compose an entire track – haha, track, get it? No? Alright then – according to the beats before his stop came up.

It was a hefty suitcase for a small Jihoon, but that didn’t seem to matter much: with all of his might he lugged the thing from its place and onto the platform.

It was, by all means, a _small_ town – but he didn’t get to see much outside the station. As soon as he stepped towards the buss terminal, a tall man in dark shades and a suit stepped up to him.

_Uuuuuh…_

“Mr. Lee Jihoon?”

“Y-yes?”

There was a smile. Hard to tell how friendly it was, with the shades. “My name is Bumzu, I’m the head of the Music Department at Pleiades University. Our usual caretaker is out with hayfever, and he asked me to come pick you up from the station.”

For a moment, he hesitated. A university that picked its students up at the train station seemed like a bit of a con, but then, this _was_ a prestigious place.

He handed him his card, and there it was – the Pleiades logo, in full colour print.

“Oh, okay.”

“Please, allow me. Did you have a long journey?”

“A few hours…” He semi-reluctantly gave the stranger his suitcase and followed him towards the car park. “Do you usually pick up your students like this?”

“There _is_ a special Uni bus, but the caretaker is out, and you’re the only one arriving today, so I thought I’d do you a special favour.” The smile slanted a little. “Don’t expect such preferential treatment everywhere you go.”

“N-no, of course not.”

“Don’t be so nervous.” The man pressed a button, and in the distance of the car park, lights flashed. “There’s still a week before classes start.”

“You drive an _SUV?_ ”

“I like a bit of bulk. I know, it’s a mom car, but the Uni is small and I end up doing lots of people favours like ferrying them into town at the weekends. Not everybody is able to bring their own car to campus.”

“Oh.”

The SUV was comfortable – properly so. They had only just gotten out of town boundaries, headed down a small road amidst the pine trees, when the shades came off.

His face seemed trustworthy enough.

“To be honest, Jihoon, and I suppose I can tell you now, you’re right. You never applied to Pleiades U.”

“Uh…”

“Pleiades U is for the _exceptionally gifted_.” The way he said it made it seem impressive. “And we’ve had our eye on you. We didn’t suspect anything for a while, or we would have enrolled you in our resident middle school at the time. It’s only in the last few years you’ve come under our radar.”

Jihoon became very quiet.

“…don’t worry, I’m not taking you to Special People Jail, or anything.” He chuckled a little. “You seem apprehensive. Here you’re going to learn to control your functions, as well as hone your skills and follow a regular pre-master’s degree in contemporary music like you want.”

His voice was very quiet. “I don’t want this,” he whispered. “I just wanted to be normal. And go to normal University.”

Bumzu nodded. “Many feel that way, at first. You’re free to leave any time you like, but I’d suggest giving it a week. You don’t have to be cautious about what you do or how you act here. Any of your natural abilities will be accepted. For the first time in your life, you don’t have to pretend you’re a normal human. For the first time, you’ll be among others your kind.”

“The Charles Xavier School for the Gifted, eh…”

“Something like that.” His smile became wider. “Here we are.”

Jihoon took one look at the building – a stately, beautiful but compact front building. Behind it, the white-washed edges of another, secondary building, leapt out in a wide berth. The drive way had a fountain. The building was a classic Victorian design.

“Lee Jihoon, welcome to Pleiades U.”

 

* * *

 

 


	2. Note: from the author, Q&A 0

Ladies and Gentlemen,

 

Every other chapter there will be a Q&A on this story, instead of a chapter.  
Please leave questions for the next Q&A as comments on Q&A chapters, not real chapters.

 

Starting 11.09.2019

 

 

Q. Are you coming back to twitter? (xuwonhao)  
A. No, that's why I am doing this, to say hi to people who miss me.

 

Q. So if I post something about you on twitter, you won't see it? (imagined question)  
A. I keep tabs on things related to me and my fics with my personal twitter account. If you want me to see it, use #AskButcherBaker. If you don't want me to see it, hide it very carefully.

 

Q. What will be your update schedule? (imagined question)  
A. Am I supposed to know? Because you will be disappointed. Things are odd for me and will not be better by November. I will update when I update.

 

Q. Why did you come back? (imagined question)  
A. I missed this. And, also, I need attention like I need oxygen.

 

Q. Is Devils Wear Denim going to be like your other fics? (imagined question)  
A. DWD is actually going to be a rehash of a story I wrote about 10 years ago. It's getting a Pimp My ~~Ride~~ Fic(?) as we speak. The original had a happy ending.

 

Q. Are you going to answer all questions given? (imagined question)  
A. Depends on how many questions I get. I don't expect many.

 

Special shoutout goes to those whom I follow personally:  
  
Tiffy  
Bella  
Lex  
Michy  
Tini  
Ade  
Isabel  
Weerus  
Cel  
  
  
Other special shoutout goes to those whom I greatly miss because they are always in the comment section saying nice things that make my brain create the happy hormone:  
  
Smolxings  
Okobogee  
SeungPanda  
TheiaP  
Lakeofwisdom  
whocoups  
off_kyu  
Mongiemong  
Anjuhime  
Just_A_Random_Fandom  
Woozifi  
(Anybody else I've forgotten but who has been there for me)


	3. the Escagoth

“…it’s pretty,” he managed at length.

“They all say that,” Bumzu grinned. “It’s nicer on the inside. You need to sign in and get your keycard.”

“…keycard?”

“For your dorm.”

“…there’s a keycard for my dorm?”

“Well of course there is.” He gave him a funny look. “What did you think? We all sleep open plan around the fire?”

Jihoon colored, tensing muscles a little. “No…”

Bumzu finally reached Jihoon’s suitcase onto the gravel of the driveway. “You do _know_ this university is state of the art, yes?”

“I’m aware…”

“Come on. You’re in a nice dorm in the music production tower.”

“ _Tower?_ ”

“Come on!” He called, waving his car keys in the air as he moved towards the door. “Or are you just going to stand there repeating everything I’ve said?”

“I might just,” he muttered under his breath, before jogging up. “So the dorms are computer protected?”

“Yeah, though that doesn’t always do much good.” He looked over, suddenly. “I can imagine they’ll be up in your room a lot, if you let them.”

“Them?”

Bumzu swiped a card over a small box on the front door, and the heavy oak swung open to reveal a small foyer, all ginger-hued hardwood floors and panelling, with a thin, pea-green rug that had seen better days in the middle and dark-framed pictures of faces adorning the walls here and there. To the right there was a wooden wall that seemed to grow right out of the hardwood floor, enveloping a small desk on its inside, with a light and a phone.

The man sitting there at the desk was young – or at least, had perfect skin that radiated youth. Round, gold-rimmed glasses, and a very straight back indeed.

“So, you’ve finally made it.”

“Hey, Aron.”

The man stood, and made a deep, 45-degree bow. “Welcome to Pleiades U, sir.”

Bumzu turned to Jihoon, and bowed a little as well.

It took him a moment. “ _Me?!_ ”

“We’ve been waiting a long time,” Aron smiled, coming up from his bow. “Let me check you in and get you your things, and then Bumzu will take you to the tower.”

He frowned lightly, nearing the desk. “Uh, okay, once more… tower?”

“Music majors dorm in a tower. How are you with heights?”

He didn’t mind the hand on his shoulder, and made a non-committal shrug with his free one. “I don’t mind them.”

“Good. You’ll have an excellent view.” Aron turned away to an apothecary’s table that was more of a cupboard. Jihoon had almost counted out 80 drawers when he found the relevant one and turned back. “Here we go, Lee Jihoon. Here’s your plan of the grounds, though I _sincerely_ doubt you’ll need that, like the Fabulous Four will let you go anywhere without one of them. This is your keycard, and the wallet to keep it in. Now, this is your Allowance Chip.” He held up a small white block of plastic with a QR code on it. “You can scan it at any of the automatons in school for that automaton’s function, and you can scan it in the university app to access your class material and schedules.”

Jihoon’s eyes went a little glassy.

He smiled apologetically. “Scan over the printers to print essays, scan over the computers to log into the computers…”

“Oh, right.” The glassy look dissipated.

“Then in this envelope there is a list of personnel and their contact information, the code of conduct when it comes to the studios, a short copy of the student handbook and some coupons for some of the on-campus places. And you’re all set!”

Jihoon gingerly took the items, whispering their functions to himself carefully.

Bumzu raised an eyebrow.

“I know, but don’t look at me. She said she was taking a nap. When she’s ready for him, I’ll call up to the room.”

“Alright.”

Jihoon simply sighed. There was no point in asking. He hadn’t understood most of what had happened today, and he was verging on a headache anyway. He just wanted to lie down on a bed and get a nap.

“Off we are then. Do you have everything?”

“Yeah.”

The Tower was – well, it was exactly what it sounded like. It was only marginally thicker at the base than the top, a perfect circle, at least five storeys high, and _big_. It looked vaguely medieval, out behind lush rows of dormitories and fraternity houses, but there was a certain prettiness about it Jihoon could respect.

Bumzu nudged the door open with his foot. “This door is always open, for fire safety. This is the common room – down that way there’s the basement and it has uh 6 studios, the kitchen is over there.”

“A kitchen? For like… cooking food?”

He laughed. “Come on. Elevator. Take out your keycard.”

With a quick swipe of the handy dandy keycard, the elevator buzzed to life, making a very low humming noise as it came down the shaft, and a pleasant ding as it opened.

“Neat.”

There were seven storeys, and a P – by the time Jihoon realized it stood for _penthouse_ , he was already there.

It was kind of gorgeous.

The elevator opened to a living room, directly: white and black checked floor in linoleum, red sofas and chairs, a glass coffee table and a TV screen bigger than Jihoon himself. The seating area was lowered in a kind of pit style; behind it was a French door to a sizable balcony, and a gleaming, polished, black piano forte.

“Oh my God.” He didn’t stop until he was touching the varnish. “It’s beautiful.”

Bumzu smiled, watching him for a moment. “You’ll be using it a lot, then, I reckon?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Come on. Let’s get you settled. Your room is through here.”

“Wait – there’s only one – the penth- wait – what?”

“Yes, the penthouse is yours. We’ve… been waiting for you for a long time. It’s a long story. Anyway-”

“Oh, holy mother of God.”

It was stunning – grey-tinted wooden panelling on the walls, combined with a greige grained wallpaper on the wall behind the King-sized bed, which was made up in greys and golds to match the room itself. The floor was marble tiled, with a shaggy rug in the middle, a beautiful black marble desk and chair to one side, all lit up like a Christmas tree.

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding me.”

“All of a sudden it’s sounding pretty good to stay here now, isn’t it?”

“…okay, yeah.”

“Back through there, behind the bed, is the bathroom – and then on the other side is the wardrobe. They’re all connected.”

“Shiiiiit.” He _had_ to walk around and see the glass box shower, the jacuzzi, and the stylishly empty wardrobe, until he came out on the other side of the bed, jaw slack, eyes wide.

Bumzu held up his hands. “I’ll let you wash up and get settled in. The intercom is on the coffee table out there. I’m number 235 if you want me.”

“Uh… sure.”

He stood in the middle of his new bedroom, waiting.

“I’m dead,” he whispered to himself. “I’ve died, and gone to heaven.”

 

One steamy shower later (with the massage option on) and a change of clothes, Jihoon opened his bedroom door to find a visitor.

“Oh, my God. You’re here.” The man stood hurriedly, flushed and antsy, rubbing his palms on his jeans. “Uh, um, hi, I’m Jeonghan.”

“Jihoon.” He slicked some of the wet strands back off his face. “Uh, is there another room…?”

“Oh, no! No, I’m just uh, here to welcome you to the Tower!” It sounded like he had thought of it on the spot. “Also, I just really wanted to meet you. You know. It’s not every day you meet a celebrity.”

“Celeb-”

A faint buzz echoed through the room. “Yoon Jeonghan, you had better not be in that room.”

“Aw, Bumzu.” Jeonghan turned and hit a small white device on the glass table. “I only just came here to say hi. You can let me have that.”

“He hasn’t been to see Her yet.”

The man straightened a little. “Well how was I meant to know that?”

“Go back to your own room and wait patiently. I’m coming up right now.”

He pulled a horrified face and quickly pressed the device again. “Uh, sounds like I better go before Bumzu gives me an earful.”

“Uh… sure?”

Without more than a smile, the man headed for the balcony, and very casually, bent his knees and jumped right off it.

There was a mad scramble for Jihoon to get to the balcony, yelling all the way – before he made it quite to the edge, Jeonghan’s face reappeared, pretty in its detail, clear and glowing. “What?”

Jihoon looked down. The man stood on nothing, a breeze blowing under his feet.

“Oh.”

The man called Jeonghan chuckled. “If you make friends with the wind, it’ll do great things for you. I’m going to go down, but I’ll catch you later, if it’s okay? After you’ve seen Her?”

“Who is _her_?!”

Jeonghan frowned for a moment. “She’s the – the… prophet. You don’t know?”

“ _Prophet?_ ” He couldn’t have sounded more incredulous if he’d tried.

“Gotta zoom!”

 

“It’s very simple. She’s the prophet. When you go in, accept what She offers you. Don’t mind Her attitude, no matter what it might be. Just listen carefully to what She has to tell you. She’ll dismiss you when it’s time for you to leave.”

“What’s her _name_?”

“No name. Just ma’am.”

“So I’m going to walk into a room with a woman I don’t know, whose name I don’t know, who is supposed to tell me my future?”

Bumzu looked at him, stopping in the middle of a rather dark hallway. The look was an odd one, of curiosity and reverence. “You have a difficult life to lead, Jihoon. More than most. And then, even more, because of your parents.”

“What do they-”

“You were adopted, right?”

His face stiffened.

“Trust Her. She’s never steered a student wrong.”

He knocked twice on the door, turned around, and left.

It took a moment for a woman’s voice to call out. “Come on in, child. Door’s unlocked.”

There didn’t seem to be any point in pretending that this was a big moment of his career, so he simply opened the door and walked in.

She was a short, somewhat pudgy woman – soft and round and a little squishy, with her hair tied up, and red-rimmed glasses perched carefully on her button nose. She stood at a stove, pushing hot cookies onto a plate from the baking tray.

She never looked up. “Oh. It’s you.”

“Uh… yes ma’am.”

“Well, sit down.” The room didn’t seem to be anything _more_ than a kitchen, and there was only two plastic white chairs by a small table, so he sat there, hands folded. “Would you like some cookies and milk?”

“Yes please,” he answered obediently.

“You’re going to have to do something about that attitude.”

“What?”

“They told you to accept whatever I offered you, didn’t they?” She put the plate of cookies down on the table, and looked at Jihoon with a warm, familiar smile. “You can’t always do what other people tell you to. You’ve spent your whole life not taking risks. Sooner or later, Lee Jihoon, you’re going to have to make your own decisions.”

The speech was perplexing. “Uh… yes ma’am?”

“Now, eat your cookies.” She sat across from him. “Your life would have been so much easier if you had stayed with your mother. I’m sorry you lived in such a struggle, not knowing her.”

“The mother I have is all I could have hoped for in a mother,” he muttered defiantly, gingerly picking up a cookie. “She has loved me and taken care of me, these twenty years.”

She nodded with a sad smile. “The woman who raised you did admirably. But there is more to you than meets the eye, child. And if your parents had loved you and raised you, things wouldn’t be so hard on you now.”

He paused for a moment. “Oh?”

“You have powers beyond those of normal humans.”

He became very quiet.

“There are few students here that are normal humans. Don’t be upset. You’ve already seen the flyer.”

“Jeonghan?”

“Mm. _Watch that boy_ like a hawk. Don’t let him drink alcohol. He’ll get into real trouble one of these days.”

He snorted.

“There are many with similar skills, here. Fire breathers and toad raisers and alchemists with a twist for gold. You’ll get to know many of them. But… they are all just the Seelie Court. They can do one or maybe two special tricks, but you’re not somebody as safe as a reliable weatherman, are you? Go on, eat up. I’ll get you some milk.”

He waited, nibbling on the warm cookie, as she poured him a glass of fresh milk.

“You go beyond the sub-atomic, you _live_ there, using the constant state of cosmic chaotic flux to shift the world on its axis. You take the very fabric of emotion, pull it apart, and weave it anew.”

He thought about that. It didn’t really seem very accurate. “I just… do stuff. Change it. Prod it. Wield it. It’s not that special.”

“No. In all the millennia that there have been a Seelie Court and an Unseelie Court, there have been the Princes of Peace, but none like you. Those who could be just and kind and settle disputes between the forces of good and evil.”

“The forces of good and evil?” he grinned.

Her fist came down on the table – hard. “Do _not_ mock that for which your ancestors gave their sacred lives,” she hissed. “Do not be the weak link of your bloodline that runs back for thousands of years.”

Jihoon blinked awkwardly.

She sat down and leaned back, slowly relaxing again. “You are him, alright. The Escagoth.”

“The what?”

“The Escagoth. Your father was a bad man. Your mother was a good woman and a princess besides. That makes you the Escagoth. The harbinger of death. Ragnarök. The rapture. Your being here signals the end of the world.”

 

The boy closed the door quietly, as instructed, put his back to it, and slid to his knees, crumpling in a little heap.

Bumzu sat across from him in the hallway. Also on the floor. Neither of them spoke for a long time.

“I’m… evil?” Jihoon whispered at length, moving to finally look at Bumzu with glassy eyes. “I’m… the end of the world?”

“You’re the end of the world, but… you’re not evil. You’re not God, either. You’re just you.”

“How can I be the harbinger of death when-”

“For years beyond memory, there have been creatures on this earth with powers. Those who used them for benign ends are the Seelie Court. Those with evil intentions are the Unseelie Court. This is how the myth of fairies came to be. And for years beyond memory, there was a prophecy that a Prince of Peace would come, the Escagoth, after the line of Kings had long ended, who would turn the world to dust and allow humanity to start anew. There isn’t a single Seelie Court who hasn’t waited anxiously for you to show up. Now you’re here… and we can all be set free.”

Jihoon’s shoulders sagged. “Set free?”

“None of us wanted to be monsters, Jihoon. None of us wanted to live a life of abnormalcy. None of us wanted to be barred at the gates of heaven.” His eyes now turned moist, going a little red. “You are the only one who can save our souls.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, this is ARTHUR.
> 
> It's been two years today since I stopped writing. I hope that you are all able to enjoy this adventure with me. I hope you grow to love this as much as I have. Most of all, I hope that I do not disappoint you all, as I know I have in the past.


	4. Q&A 1

Ladies and Gentlemen,

Every other chapter there will be a Q&A on this story, instead of a chapter.

Please leave questions for the next Q&A as comments on Q&A chapters, not real chapters.

 

 

Q. What’s your writing process like? Is there lots of planning beforehand or do you wing it as you go? (Also thank you for shout-out, I missed you!) (okobogee)  
  
A. Dude, I missed you too. So as far as the general plotlining, I usually have a general storyline I want to go down to start off with. A beginning and a general idea for the ending. I might already have a couple of scenes firmly imbedded in my imagination and know exactly how I want them to come to life. I usually try to think of a couple of ‘plot-points’ in between to keep the story going. And then I just wing the rest and see what happens. Usually, the characters take over, and I have to shuffle my ideas around again a couple of times, but que sera sera, am I right?

 

Q. m-michy???? IS IT ME? I DONT ACTUALLY KNOW BUT WHAT IM ACTUALLY REALLY EXCITED FOR UR FICS AND IM TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHO YOU ARE but you don’t wanna be known so i’m gonna leave that as that but u-uwu if it’s me (euphoniouswoozi)

A. I literally don’t know how you could think it would be anybody else? Yes it’s you? Are there other Michy’s I don’t know about? Anyway, you can have a good guess. If you figure it out, I probably won’t mind. If you like the mystery you can keep the mystery. ‘s all good.

 

Q. 1. may i know what inspired this fic of yours? cause i've always been curious of that, of what inspired you to write all your wonderful fanfics.  
2\. where does your inspirations come from usually?  
and lastly, 3. can you suggest any motivations for someone like me who struggles halfway through writing? (conshuume)

A. 1. For DWD, like I said, it’s a rehash of an original novel I wrote years ago, when I was still young and vivacious and had the will to be creative instead of having my soul sucked dry by having adult responsibilities.   
  
2\. When it comes to previous fanfics, some of them like the Benefactor series are somewhat just “jane eyre but kinky and also gay” (ie, classic story but gay). Others just come to me, I’ll dream of a specific scene or daydream about a colour and it just grows from there. I’m lucky.  
  
3\. I honestly don’t think you want me to be giving you tips. Generally when I get stuck, I kill a character, just to see what will happen. I struggle halfway through my writing too, it gets monotonous and boring and I just want it to be over. The key is to have a final goal or desire for the main character and, when you get stuck, to change something about the character’s ability to achieve that goal or desire. Sometimes, to get through a monotonous period of story that has to be written, I’ll shift to a different character’s POV, just to switch it up for the reader and give them access to a different viewpoint on the situation. I have a folder on my cloud with 187 unfinished projects. Yeah. 187. Not every story has the leverage to propel into a fully fledged work. Sometimes you just have to start anew.  
PS: I’m curious now – what was your name before?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Our first chapter and accompanying Q&A is up. If you know of anybody who may enjoy this fic, please feel free to spread it.


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